


Silver Fern

by halsyg



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Emotions, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Old Married Couple, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychosis, also a little bit of a dimidue therapy session, tldr : Dedue realizes he has worth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21513529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halsyg/pseuds/halsyg
Summary: a flower still blooms despite adversity; Dedue tends to his garden.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42





	Silver Fern

Years had come and gone since the dusk of the war that had raged across Fódlan, drilling through the country in a fiery swath that threatened to consume all. While the fighting may have ceased, the tremors of war still resound with a sickening tremor through his hands, and pangs of his heart that wash over him in waves. The war was at rest, yet his soul was ever vigilant; ever fearful of the flames that once consumed all.

To soothe his troubled heart, Dedue continued to pursue his passion for gardening.

The temperate countryside of Holy Kingdom of Faerghus did not lend itself easily to horticultural pursuits, yet Dedue would not be dissuaded so easily. His kind heart, green thumb, and naturally observant traits all allowed his humble little garden to flourish despite the odds.  
He drew parallels between this humble pursuit’s success and the life he once fought to keep. A plant and a man were so alike, he felt, growing amidst weeds and ground trampled far too often by the heavy steel sabatons of war, stained red and marred - yet still surviving.

...And yet later, thriving.

Cool grey eyes traced the foliage surrounding him, and fond memories of the Monastery came back to him in waves. Gentle, unlike the hounding, relentless and intrusive thoughts of battle. Dedue found it to be poetic; how a simple garden laden with hues of green and dappled tones alike could make one’s heart lay so calm by mere solidaric association. In that moment, he gave a brief wish to his former allies, wherever in the world they may be; he prayed that they too will find catharsis in something, and that their souls may too find the calm after the storm.

A dull pain thrummed in his chest. Longing, yearning, and the familiar velvet-hooked embrace that clutched his heart so toxically. With his reminiscing, there often came panic. A deluge of memories flooding back too quickly and too strongly, a tidal wave that carried with it ichor & consumed him time and time again, spitting out scraps and forcing him to rebuild himself from the ground up each and every time it struck. Quaking hands fumbled with the watering can by his feet, yet they could not grasp it; they locked with fear, and so did his body. He merely stood there in horror as the flames of War - the lives he claimed, the allies he lost, the pain - fanned yet higher & re-ignited the fear within his soul.

Despite his fear, he felt guilt; he knew all too well that there were many who suffered yet worse than he did. He considered himself lucky to have escaped with little more than another layer of emotional disorder and his life, especially considering the many who were not privy to the latter mercy.

Dimitri had frequently tried to quell these fears of his, explaining that Dedue’s post-traumatic turmoil had just as much value as anyone else’s and soothing him when the memories became too painful to bear alone. In turn, Dedue would help talk Dimitri through his periodic episodes of psychosis. The two possessed a very mutually beneficial relationship, living not only as husbands, but as best friends; devoted to one another eternally. To hold and to have, to cherish and comfort, to adore wholeheartedly throughout any odds… and to bask in one another’s presence when the cold fog clouded their minds.

...Twenty five years have passed since the war, and Dedue was finally beginning to believe in his own value.

Much like a flower that has been trod upon and culled, once the clash of metal has stopped ringing and the footsteps that march to the drum of the earth’s heartbeat now lay still, scars remain yet the flower blossoms forth once more. With enough care and someone trustworthy to tend to the soils, it can grow yet stronger than before.

The tremors slowed as Dedue filled his mind not with the flames of war, but with the blazing cinders of true love. Shaken yet recovering from the tremors, Dedue continued to tend to his garden. To himself, he smiled; perhaps this whole garden was a metaphor for defeating the darkened husk of the past that lingered within. By cultivating and pruning the unwanted weeds, he began to chip away at his trauma… And when watering the plants, he was bolstering his self-worth.

As he turned to return the watering can to its pedestal, his breath hitched; a mellow grey shape caught his eye amidst the cyclopean masonry that framed his garden. Within a crack most inhabitable for any form of life, baked in the sun and buffeted by the elements, there lived a sole Silver Fern. It was small, and if one were to glance at the wall from any distance, they would likely not notice it; the fern merely grew and observed, a true paragon of the wallflower. His hands still shook, though they no longer rest bound by the tremors of the past. The kindest and brightest emotion welled up in his chest.

It occurred to him then; he was something to be cherished the same as his plants, something with immense value to someone. A rare fern that bloomed despite adversity. There he stood, with his hands cupped around this small silver fern that reminded him so dearly of the man he had spent his life becoming. Dedue stood and sobbed, he wept tears of joy which brought a rare smile to his face.

Strong arms draped around his shoulders, the scratch of facial hair tickling his neck as a kiss was pressed lovingly against his strong jaw.  
“Are you alright, Dedue?” The familiar voice of his husband knelled behind him. “You always come to your garden when you are struggling with something. Remember, you can always talk to me if you wish to process your feelings.” Dedue found himself tearing up once more, as the sentiment that Dimitri displayed caused his heart to swell. The genuine concern that he showed was so true, so carefully constructed so as to make his once-tender heart vulnerable again. Concern for him in the past was so sparse, few and far between if ever expressed. The fact that Dimitri cared for him so made him emotional.

“Dimitri, you know me better than I know myself.” Dedue grumbled, a lovingly sardonic tone lacing his words. He leaned his head back into his beloved’s embrace. “How could I not? I have spent years at your side, discovering all the quiet aspects of you that I can discover.” “I cherish that, Dimitri. I truly do.” Dedue’s heart, pierced with holes, was filled with Dimitri’s love.

“And I, you.”

As the gentle northern winds blew across the garden, Dimitri and Dedue spent hours in each other's arms. Emotions laid bare, heartfelt sentiments, and teasing remarks; the brand of love laced their words.

“You know… You are beginning to look like your father, Dimitri. He would be proud of who you have become.” Dedue chuckled. “I sincerely hope he is… I really do.” Dimitri paused. “I… have not been seeing him, as of late.” “Is that good?” “...I do not know. On one hand, it is freeing to not be tortured by my mind… But on the other… I… I do miss him.” Dedue pondered for a second, before grasping his beloved’s hand in his. “Though he is no longer at your side, I can assure you that he is still looking down upon the Kingdom with a prideful gaze.”

Silence, and the rustling of trees in the wind.

“...Thank you, Dedue. For everything.”  
“I love you, Dimitri. I love you as fondly as the day I first set my eyes upon you.”  
“I love you too.”

And their words rang true.


End file.
